


The Very Model of a Modern Major-General

by radiatornachos



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fighting, M/M, Military AU, Smut, sex to fighting i guess???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiatornachos/pseuds/radiatornachos
Summary: Do I really want to fuck him?
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Kudos: 10





	The Very Model of a Modern Major-General

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in 2017 and never published it. i’m not really into patd anymore (though i’ll always love ryan), but i wanted this to be out into the world before i completely leave it behind, because i was so proud of it when i wrote it. i didn’t edit it, and i know half of it is capitalized and half isnt, but i still hope you guys like it. <3

I stumble backwards, blindly, into my bunker, Urie kissing, as it seems, every inch of skin accessible to him on my face and neck. My head, though I haven't had anything to drink tonight, was spinning madly. Do I really want to sleep with him? Do I really want to fuck him, to feel myself inside him, and have his loud-I just knew they'd be loud, it was in his personality-moans bounce off my pristine walls? My fucking walls, did I really want them to be tainted by someone else?

I smirk as I push him down onto my bed, unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up as he panted underneath me. I sat, straddling him, putting on a Grammy deserving show as I undid his tie, staring him straight in the eyes, trying to transfer a lie into his brain. Trying to tell him that I'd like nothing more than to dominate him somewhere other than the field, that I wanted to ruin him right here in my bedroom. But as much as I wanted it to be true, it just wasn't so. 

I was confused. I did want him, I really did, through countless nights of fantasizing about this. me, dictating his every move, and him, obeying me without question, desperately wanting to please me. It had been what first caught my attention, during drills, of all things. He'd eagerly followed my commands to a tee, and I'd be an absolute liar to say that it didn't turn me on immensely, sometimes even to the point of me having to run to the bathroom in the middle of drills, of which I was in charge, of course. Not to mention, his tight, perky ass and plump, pink lips, both begging to be completely wrecked, and by me.

Suddenly, I came back to my senses and realized that before, I had been being stupid. I did want him, and he was about to see just how much. It was true, albeit, that I didn't want the smell of him to linger in my room, but, hell, I'd just make him wash the sheets tomorrow. It'd be an extra treat for me, and God knows I deserve it. 

I had gotten his shirt off by this point, and had since been making out with him on my bed. I was still in the position of straddling Urie on the bed, but he had sunken down so he was lying underneath me, holding me by the collar of my shirt as he kissed me fervently. I could feel his hard dick against my own crotch, which was half hard but swelling by the minute. I began to grind against him, which he immediately reciprocated, letting a small moan escape as he did so. It didn't bother me as much as I thought it would, in fact, it was kind of hot, but I had to remind the boy of my authority. 

"Hey. No noise until I say you can," I tell him, surprising myself with how low and seductive sounding my voice came out. Urie nodded, eyes wide, and then we continue where we left off, but this time situated so that I'm pinning his arms to his sides and lying on top of him. 

We continue like this for ten more minutes, when I decide my erection is too painful to ignore any longer. I pull my lips away from his and look him dead in the eye, meeting his slightly confused gaze. I surprise myself again when my voice came out husky and deep-I'd forgotten I could sound like that. "Suck," I order him firmly.

His eyes widen in realization and he quickly begins to fumble with my belt buckle, a muttered "yes, General Ross" under his breath as he does so. I can see his bulge straining against his own pants-the ones he ordered probably two sizes too small, so they clung to his legs like they were painted on, just like the whore he was, and had the fleeting thought that he might actually come in his pants before we get the chance to do anything. I was midway through this thought, however, when Urie finally has my belt undone and pulls my pants and boxers down, all in one go.

The younger man wastes no time with teasing, taking the tip of my cock into his mouth without any hesitation or thought whatsoever, really. 

God, I wish I could do that.

He swirls his tongue around the head and then, without warning, takes the rest deep into the back of his throat, his nose almost touching my skin as he bobs his head up and down on my dick.

"Fuck, Urie," I moan involuntary, my head thrown back against the headboard as he goes down on me. "Where'd you learn this, fucking whore? You blow other soldiers in the showers?" My words were coming out faster than I could stop them, but by the looks of it, Urie seemed to almost like it, bobbing his head and letting out little whines as I speak. 

"Shut up," I bark as I reach for his belt buckle, undoing it quickly before dipping my hand into his underwear and fondling his balls. I can tell he's trying hard not to make a sound for me. I smirk to myself, knowing how loud and social the boy is at dinner-this must be killing him.

He licks a particular spot on the underside of my dick, and I know I can't possibly last much longer, so I tell him that he has to stop if he wants me to fuck his ass like the slut he is, and of course that got him right off of me.

God, he knows what a whore he is, too.

I command him to get on hands and knees in front of me, and he doesn't complain. 

"Slut," I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fuck me, please, General Ross, I need you, please, i just, anythi- oh." His voice comes out needy and out of breath, and I don't know if I want to come or cringe. I decide to just ignore it.

He started rocking slowly as I inserted two fingers into him. I was yet again reminded of how disgusted i was with touching him, and with this kind of intimacy, but I tell myself that it'll be better when I've prepped him and we can properly fuck. People do that all the time, no strings attached. Just sex. 

"Another one, please, sir," Urie pleads after a moment, and I oblige, feeling my dick twitch as he refers to me as sir, and deciding that this kid isn't going to be able to attend drills for a week after I'm done with him. 

I whisper this thought to him as I add another finger, with my low voice and my free hand wrapped around his cock. He breathes harder and says nothing.

"Alright, bitch, are you ready?" I ask once I've gotten tired of finger fucking him. He nods, panting.

I slide the tip into his tight ass, and it feels good. It really does, and I tell myself to just focus on that. It feels good. It feels good. It feels good. Just keep going. Just keepgoing. justkeepgoingjustkeepgoingjustkeepgoing. 

Urie is moaning like my cock is best he's ever had, which has to be fake, considering it's taking everything I've got to keep snapping my hips. the sound still makes my skin crawl. 

justkeepgoing. 

his face is buried in my sheets. 

justkeepgoing. 

it doesn't really feel good anymore. 

justkeepgoing. 

i can't breathe. 

justkeepgoingjustkeepgoingjustkeepgoing. 

and then i snap. 

somehow, my cock isn't in his ass anymore, and the scene has turned from barely an act of love to brutal violence, and i'm on top of him again, but it's not to kiss him. my fist smashes into his face again and again, and I know it's acting on its own accord because I'm not thinking and I'm not breathing and I don't know what's happening except that he's yelling desperately for me to God, stop! Please! 

stopstopstopstop

it gets through to me, but i can't remember what it means. 

i keep hitting him still, until he finally gets a hold of my wrist and forces it to quit moving. i lower my arm in defeat, and slowly raise my head to look at him, and he looks me back in the eye. his face and upper chest are covered in already forming bruises, and his nose is dripping bright crimson. he looks shocked, and I can't say I blame him. And when I meet his gaze, now filled with disgust at myself instead of him, there's only one thing in the world that I can think to say to him. 

"Go wash my sheets."

And he does. He slides out from underneath me, finds his boxers in our heap of clothes on the floor, gathers all my blankets from my mattress, and heads down the hall.


End file.
